A Healer's Path
---following on from The Pretty Thief I began writing about the story of Anna, Jennifer's grandmother. The beginning is seen here through the eyes of Dylan.--
Church had ended. Dylan Carr was feeling good. He left the church, shook hands with the minister, chatted a while with some friends, then strolled down the little path toward the gate.
She caught his eye almost at once. A woman of about 50, thin and with perfectly white hair tied in a bun above a striking face. He did not know her, but could tell immediately that she was seeking him. Someone in need of a doctor on a Sunday.
"Dr Carr?" she asked as he drew close.
"Yes?"
"I need you to come see a friend of mine. He is very ill."
Her voice was strange. She spoke without the accent of locals. There was a lovely tone in her voice.
"Is it urgent?" he asked.
"I would say it is very urgent. He is dying I am sure."
Dylan started in surprise, "What? I'm not clear, who are you?"
She glanced down, then looked back up into his eyes, "Sorry, let me start again Doctor. My name is Anna. I live out on Anchil Island. My neighbour, he is Patrick, he is the one who is ill. He really is very unwell or I should not have come. I was told of you. People speak well of you. They say you care about your patients. Will you come out to see him, please?"
Dylan regarded her more closely. Her face was pained, her eyes so very blue swamped in tiredness. She seemed older than her years. Dylan's heart went out to her.
"How did you get here Anna?"
"I walked."
"What! All the way?"
She smiled at him for the first time. Even through her pain and weariness that smile brought lightness to him.
"Yes. All the way. Will you come help?"
"Of course I will. We will not walk though. My car is parked down here," he motioned along the road, "we will drive and you can show me the way."
"Very well. They were right about you. He is not a patient of yours mind."
"Well, he is now," Dylan said and taking Anna's arm, led her toward his parked car.
Anna seemed very tired and Dylan let her rest as he drove out of the village toward the island. He had no patients out there, and understood few people lived on the island itself even though it was joined to the mainland by a little causeway. Since taking up his post as GP only a few months earlier he had been trying to get a grip on things within the village. The area beyond the village was sparsely populated and he had been shocked at the lack of medical resources and the casual approach to health even in the village.
He glanced over at his passenger who was now sitting with closed eyes, long fingered hands at rest on her lap. She had striking features. Classic looks. In her youth, Dylan thought, she must have been quite the beauty. She was dressed simply in a loose jacket over a flowered dress. Had she really walked all the way from the island like that? Her hair was so white it was startling. Even bound up above her head Dylan could tell it was not colour or bleach nor even age, but a natural snowfall white. He had never seen anything quite like it.
“It runs in my family,” she spoke softly as if reading his mind. Her eyes opened and she turned to him, “Everyone asks. My hair is quite normal in my family.”
He nodded, a little embarrassed he had been so easily read. Now in the partial shade of the car her eyes seemed a deeper yet brighter blue, and she was regarding him closely.
“What kind of man comes so quickly and easily to a stranger’s aid?” Anna asked him.
Dylan laughed, “A doctor?”
“Not all doctors,” she answered, “but this one certainly. Thank you. Patrick, the man I want you to see, Patrick Malone, he used to live on the island, then he…he left. I only heard he had returned yesterday. I went to see him. He is too ill to leave his bed.”
“You knew him from before?”
Anna sighed. “I knew him. Long ago now. I…” her voice broke. She recovered, “I don’t think he….remembers me at all.”
Silence filled the car. A story lay buried here Dylan could tell, some old pain left unhealed, but not one to be touched today. He broke the stillness, “And what is wrong with Patrick? Do you know?”
“I think.. I am not sure. You will know better.”
“But what do you think it is Anna?”
“Wait, turn here, if you go out across the road here it will be quicker.”
Dylan steered where she motioned and waited for her to continue.
“I think he has cancer.”
“If so, shouldn’t we get him to hospital?”
“He will not go. Patrick? No. He has come back to the island to die. But you can help him. Make him comfortable?”
Dylan took a sharp breath, “Well…we will see. I will do what I can.”
“You do mean that. You are a good man Dr Carr,” she said it with near surprise, as if she did not expect to find goodness anywhere. “I feel it in you, you know? I am glad I found you.”
Dylan did not know what to make of that or how to respond. So they drove on in silence till Anna told him to turn again and then after a long winding road across the island they came to, well, Dylan would have hesitated to call it a house.
A low black stone building in sorry repair stood before Dylan. He eyed it with disdain. The roof was tin, rusted and broken and one part of the roof was open to the elements. The front opening was blocked by a roughly made door of wooden planks. The building was large, or rather long, and sat in the middle of a wide open gravelled area.
Dylan got out of his car, but turned back as Anna did not move.
“Are you coming in?”
Anna turned toward him and shook her head, “No. Don’t worry, he knows you are coming. Or at least he knows that I went to get a doctor. It is best I wait here.”
Dylan frowned, but closed the door of the car and walked to the house. He knocked the door, but it simply swung open on its rusted hinges. He stepped into the dim building and called out,
“Mr Malone? Hello? I am Doctor Carr.”
“In here Doctor,” a weak voice called from his left. Dylan looked round. He had stepped into the one main room of the building. Half of it was lit through an entirely open section of roof. The other side was unlit, and Dylan now saw a long couch on which lay an older man.
Dylan shook his head in disbelief at the situation. Could this man really live here like this? Even die here like this?
He went toward the man, “Mr Malone? Your friend Anna asked me to come. You are unwell?”
The man nodded in response. As Dylan knelt beside him, he spoke quietly but clearly. “You are the doctor?”
“Yes. May I examine you?”
“No need. I know what it is. It’s cancer.”
“How do you know?”
“I was told. Landed at Dublin three weeks ago. I was already bad so they took me to hospital. It didn’t take them long to decide the greek doctors had been right. Ah well, I’ve had a #life. Can’t complain.”
“Greek doctors?” Dylan queried
“Been at sea most of my #life. Was born here though. And here’s where it ends. I was in pain when the woman, Anna, she comes over and so she heads off to get a doctor. Nothing you can do though. That’s what the hospital said. Sorry you came all this way. I have a bit of money if you need paid like.”
“I don’t need any pay Mr Malone. I would like to examine you though, there may be no cure, but perhaps pain relief? Since I have come, let me do something for you.”
Patrick winced in sudden pain and then nodded to Dylan. “Pain relief would be good.”
The examination Dylan could do under the circumstances was limited. Clearly Patrick Malone was in pain, and even for that the medication Dylan had with him was hardly going to do anything. More concerning to him was the general state of the building and the practical primary care needs for the man. Dylan tried to persuade Patrick to go to hospital, but he was adamant that he would not. Having given Patrick a pain killer and made his position a little more comfortable he decided to talk again with Anna.
Dylan did not like leaving Patrick, but he returned to his car and got in again beside Anna. She turned to him, “Well?” she asked.
“It is what you thought. Anna, I am not happy with this at all. That…house…it is no place for him. I have tried to get him to go to hospital but he’s not having it. He needs better pain relief, but he also needs a lot more. Warmth and proper shelter for a start. I am not sure what to do, but this will not do.”
Anna smiled. “I agree. I do not think I can get him to go to hospital, but maybe we could persuade him to come and stay at my place. It is warm, and I can see to his needs.”
“That would be much better, and very kind of you. Do you live close?”
“Not far as the crow flies, a short drive round the island.”
“Alright. I will see if I can persuade him,” Dylan said opening the car door again. Anna made him pause, resting her thin fingers gently on his arm, “I think I will come in this time. I may be able to sway him.”
Together they re-entered the old house and at once Anna set to work, striding over the the man on the couch, all business in her tone, “Patrick, it is me, Anna. The Doctor says you can’t stay here and you won’t go to hospital, so there is nothing for it, you are coming over to my place. I’ll gather up the stuff you need and the Doctor will help you to the car. Come on now, I have to get back myself.”
“No, no, I will do here…” Patrick began, but Anna was taking no refusal.
“O don’t be such a pig head. You can’t stay here another night with the rain coming through the roof. Don’t embarrass me in front of the good doctor here. I am getting this case of yours now.”
“Leave that woman!” Patrick protested half raising himself up on the couch and then wincing in pain. Dylan went quickly to his side, helping him to lie again.
“Look Mr Malone,” Dylan said, “I really think this is best. It is very kind of Anna, and if you don’t do this I shall have to report this situation and you will be moved to hospital.”
“Report to whoever you damn please,” Patrick groaned, “I will die here and no where else.”
Dylan looked to Anna, and she nodded slowly, came over and sat down by Patrick as Dylan stood up.
Suddenly she was different. She sat close to Patrick, leaned toward him, looking straight into his eyes.
“Look at me Patrick. Look at me and listen. I want to look after you Patrick. I want to. Please come stay. As a kindness to me.”
It seemed to Dylan that the melodic tone of her voice strengthened. Patrick relaxed, his face softened.
“It is this place.” Patrick said quietly, “You don’t know…this place. This house has…memory for me. I don’t even remember…I just know I want to be here. At the end. I want to be here.”
Anna sat bolt upright. “You remember…this house Patrick? Do you remember living here?”
Patrick nodded.
Silence. Dylan did not know what was going on. Patrick was quiet on the couch, Anna sat staring at him without moving.
Dylan broke in. “Alright then. Alright. How is this Patrick? You go stay with Anna. I will get the roof and…other things fixed here. You can come back here when I have it fixed. Please - at least tonight let me get you to somewhere warm and dry.”
Anna looked back at him, her face lit with an appreciative smile. She turned to Patrick, “There. You can’t refuse that. If this place…means so much, you can’t say no to having it fixed up again. You can come back to it when it is … What it was before.”
Patrick looked from Anna to Dylan. “Do you mean that Doctor? Really?”
Dylan nodded, “I’ll do my best with it.”
“Well that is kind. More than kind. I’ll see you alright for it Doctor. Well.” He looked again at Anna, and Dylan saw she had taken his hand into hers. “Well, if you want me to come over Anna, and if the doctor here will see to the house. Ok then, if that is the plan, I will go, just till the house here is ready.”
